


At Home in Valencia

by violue



Series: Carnival Oasis [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Creature Castiel, Domestic Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Mild D/s vibes, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Tulips, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6200683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violue/pseuds/violue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mate? Boyfriend? Special friend? Whatever Castiel is, Dean's bringing him home to meet the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Home in Valencia

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [Dani](http://warkitt3nz.tumblr.com/) and [Kris](http://kelisab.tumblr.com) ❤.
> 
> If you haven't read the other parts of this series, you might want to go do that first. It's fine. I'll wait. :)

After eight days of sex, carnival food, and sleeping on a futon, Dean’s finally had enough. Enough of the futon and the bad food, not the sex. It’s going to take longer than eight fucking days for him to get tired of the way Castiel drills into him like he was made for it, fingers gripping Dean’s hair, wings fanned out behind him.

“You seem very restless,” Castiel says on that eighth day, while Dean lies face down in the grass by Castiel’s futon, trying to catch his breath. He opens his mouth wide enough to answer, groaning when he ends up with a mouthful of grass. He feels something cool and wet on his bare skin; Castiel cleaning away the evidence of their activities with a washcloth.

“I’m not restless, I can’t fuckin’ move my legs,” Dean mumbles. He smells coconut oil and earth when he breathes in, and the scent is working with his orgasm-drunk body to drag him into unconsciousness.

“Come on, you don’t want to fall asleep like that,” Castiel says, and then Dean’s being lifted in a bridal carry by a naked not-angel.

“S’ not much worse than the futon,” Dean mumbles into Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel looks down at the bed, still holding Dean like he weighs nothing at all. “Is it not comfortable for you? I have noticed sometimes I wake rather stiff…”

“It’s a little hard on my back. I’m getting old, you know.”

Castiel sets Dean on the futon carefully. “Nonsense, you are still very young and healthy, Dean. You should have many, many years of life left in you before I follow your soul back into God’s kingdom.”

“Cas, you’ve got to stop talking about my impending death,” Dean grumbles, eyes closing.

Castiel joins him on the futon and runs a hand through Dean’s sweaty hair. “Your death is not impending, that was the entire point of my statement.”

Dean’s about to answer when he feels the cool cloth on his dick, and then he’s yelping and trying to bat Castiel’s hands away.

“Anyway, as I was saying, you seem restless. Are you perhaps ready to return home?”

“Don’t really have a home,” Dean says.

“I believe you’ve mentioned your brother’s house being your home,” Castiel says.

“I keep my shit in his basement and crash there in between hunts, I don’t know if I’d say it’s _home_.”

“Does it have a bed?”

“There’s a box spring and a mattress on the floor.”

“Perhaps we should go there, then,” Castiel suggests. The washcloth is gone from his hand, probably tucked away in whatever subspace dimension Castiel keeps things like his wings and his trunk full of personal belongings. “You can sleep on your bed and perhaps it will ease your back pain.”

“We don’t have to go, I’m fine,” Dean says.

Castiel takes one of Dean’s hands, smiling gently. “Are you lying?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, I’m lying.”

It’s a small sin, barely a blip on Dean’s consciousness, but it still causes Castiel to shudder mildly, swirls of blue-white light ghosting across his eyes.

“This is your home, Cas, I don’t want to make you leave it.”

“This is hardly my home, I don’t even have friends in this area.”

“What about the carnival people?”

“You’ve been here over a week now, Dean, have you once seen me talking with any of them?”

“Well, no, but I thought maybe you were just too busy fucking me.”

Castiel makes a sound, something between a groan and a growl. “Well, there’s that… but worry not, I have no real attachment to this tent, nor to this barren field.”

“I thought you said you liked it here.”

“I like museums, that doesn’t mean I need to spend all of my time inside of one.”

“Uh… well, okay then. So… we’ll head out when I get some sleep then?”

“That sounds fine.”

“Cool. You gotta wear underwear once we get to California, though. I don’t want you flashing my nieces when a strong breeze rolls by.”

Castiel gets a sly grin on his face. “Well, if I remember your confession from three days ago correctly, there are some secret pairs of underwear stuffed in your bottom drawer at the house that I could wear.”

Dean blushes so hard he thinks his face might just melt off.

 

*

 

It doesn’t take long for them to get going. Castiel drags his furniture out of subspace or wherever so that he can leave it to whoever wants it. He takes two duffel bags out of his trunk and quickly packs the other items from the trunk inside them, folds up his many blankets, stacks up his pillows, and then he and Dean load it all into the back seat of the Impala.

“You really don’t want to take any of this furniture? I’m sure I could find a way to bring it with us,” Dean says, glancing at the bare futon, the trunk, and Castiel’s usually hidden table and chairs.

Castiel shrugs. He’s leaning over the table, scribbling a note to the carnival owners. He has penmanship that even Dean would have to admit is just damn lovely. “They hold no sentimental value. They’re just things I purchased at a second hand store when I came to town. The delivery charge was astronomical for a bunch of used furniture,” Castiel adds with distaste.

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to drive, you’re a million years old.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “First of all, I’m hardly a million years old, and secondly, I _do_ know how to drive. I told you I’ve never had a car, not that I can’t operate one.”

“Someone’s testy,” Dean says with a smirk, sidling up behind Castiel and wrapping his arms around the creature’s waist.

Castiel sighs, sinking into Dean’s embrace. “I’m nervous.”

“About what? Leaving?”

“No, meeting your family. What will we tell them?”

Wow, Dean hadn’t really given that much thought. “Well there’s a chance my dad already told Sammy I’ve got a hot new squeeze, but since my phone hasn’t blown up with hundreds of calls, probably not. We’ll tell Sam the truth. And Jess. But probably not Sam’s kids, because they still think I’m a traveling bug exterminator.”

“That’s not a real job.”

“They’re five and seven, they don’t know that.”

“But your brother and his wife? They know what you do?”

“Sure, Sammy used to hunt with me and Dad when we were younger. But then he wanted to get out and get himself a normal life, so he did. He still helps out with research and shit. Even called him about you when we first met.”

“Oh? What did he say?”

“That he didn’t know of any monster that ate sins, and that if you weren’t hurting anyone I shouldn’t kill you.”

“Nice of you to take his advice.”

“I wasn’t planning to kill you at all! Besides, it sounds like I wouldn’t have been able to.”

Castiel turns in Dean’s arms, pecking him on the lips gently. “No, human, you wouldn’t have.”

That shouldn’t turn Dean on, but it really, _really_ does.

 

*

 

“What will we do once we arrive in Valencia?”

Dean glances over at Castiel. “Do? Uh, I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you usually do?”

“Recuperate from injuries, fix shit around the house that Sam and Jess are too busy to deal with, pick up day laborer gigs, shit like that. I tried doing a steady job, but I really don’t stick around long enough for it to work. And I spend time with the family, obviously. I do brother shit with Sam, I watch soap operas with Jess, I attend imaginary tea parties with Mary and Abby...”

“Imaginary tea parties?”

“You know, kids with a plastic tea set serving invisible tea to stuffed animals… a tea party.”

“Of course. Forgive me, I’ve never attended such an event. What do you suppose _I’ll_ do while we’re in Valencia?”

“Dunno… is there anything you want to do? What do you like doing, Cas?”

Castiel answers easily. “I loved gardening when I lived in the eco village. It was incredibly rewarding to witness people enjoying food made with ingredients I grew myself. I enjoy cooking, though I haven’t had the opportunity to do so in years. I very much enjoyed severing the heads of the vampires that had imprisoned your father. I also sew.”

Dean blinks at the road several times. “You say that so casually, like it’s a totally normal hobby to have.”

“From what I understand, sewing is quite a popular and common hobby.”

“I meant severing vampire heads, you jackass.”

Castiel lets out a small laugh. “Ah. Well, I was once a warrior, Dean, my grace thrives amid the heat of battle.”

Dean nods. “Well hey, if you like cooking, I bet Jess will be thrilled to have you. Sam’s a terrible cook and busy a lot, Jess is always stuck making meals. Do you… uh… eat? Do you eat food?” Wow, what a weird question to be asking of what is essentially Dean’s boyfriend. He should probably know this already.

“I don’t need to, but I do. I haven’t eaten in quite a long time, though. The food at the carnival is subpar, it wasn’t really worth the effort. Since food doesn’t sustain me, I eat for the sake of tasting, and nothing there tasted all that good.”

“The funnel cake wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“Too dense, too oily, _and_ too much sugar. We should have left sooner, I hate to think of what all that fried food must have been doing to your health.”

“Not much different than normal, for me. I’m on the road a lot, eat a lot of burgers and fries at diners.”

Castiel clucks his tongue in disapproval. “When we are in Valencia, you must allow me to prepare you some healthier food.”

“Dude, I’m not really a salad kind of guy.”

“Healthy eating does not always mean eating lettuce, Dean. Finding alternatives or reducing your salt and sugar intake can help, eating meat and produce from local, trusted sources can help, and I think you should drink more water.”

“Cas.”

“You’ll feel better.”

“I feel fine!”

“You will feel better than you do now.”

“I want a divorce,” Dean grumbles, glaring at the highway.

“I also think you should consider taking a daily multivitamin.”

“ _Cas._ ”

 

*

 

They’re in Nevada, passing through Moapa when a little lightbulb goes off in Dean’s head. Castiel fell asleep about an hour ago, and apparently in the right circumstances, quasi-angels will drool in their sleep.

“Hey,” he says gently, though he startles Castiel awake anyway.

“Mmm?” Castiel mumbles, wiping the drool from his cheek with the sleeve of his blue cassock.

“We’re going to be passing Vegas in like an hour, wanna hit the Strip? Do some gambling? Snack on the locals?”

“ _God,_ no,” Castiel says vehemently. “No, no, no. No Vegas.”

“Really? I’d have thought a place like that would be right up your alley.”

“Oh, it is. But I will pass.”

“How come?”

“For one, I don’t need to… _snack on the locals_ , as you put it, I have you. For another, the Las Vegas Strip is… overwhelming.”

“That much sin?”

“Well,” Castiel says, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his cassock, “there is a great deal of sin and remorse in any city, but Las Vegas is rather special. People go there specifically to gamble away money, fornicate, or indulge in some other way, and a great deal of them feel guilty about it. They feel guilty for the money they’re spending on a lost weekend, they feel guilty for paying money for sex, especially those that are cheating on their lovers, they feel guilty for gorging at the buffet, filling themselves with alcohol, and so on. You recall me telling you that sometimes thoughts float through the air, and I pick up on it?” Dean nods. “Remorse hangs over that city like a thick fog. It doesn’t feed me, but it is impossible for me to focus on _anything_ while I’m there. It is the only city I’ve ever encountered where I was so intensely bombarded with the regrets of others, it was unpleasantly overwhelming.”

“Damn, I was thinking maybe having an angel with me would bring me luck at the craps table.”

Castiel chuckles. “Perhaps some day we can go to Atlantic City instead.”

“Does that mean you _are_ lucky?” Dean says with a grin.

“I must be. How else would you have found me?”

“Found you?”

“You said yourself that something pulled you here, and I knew you were mine the instant I saw you.”

Dean feels a shudder of warmth ripple through him. “You did, huh? Then why did you let me leave? You didn’t know I’d come back.”

“You are mine, Dean. I tasted you, I know your scent. I can and will find you anywhere. I merely waited to see if you’d find yourself tempted to return to me. And you were.”

“I was curious. I couldn’t just move on without figuring out what you were.”

“Ahh, and when you lay underneath me, writhing and moaning as you brought us to completion, was that you attempting to discern my origins?”

“Um… yes? Okay _fine,_ I wanted you, I was drawn to you, I’m yours, _whatever._ ” Dean grumbles, cheeks burning.

“You needn’t be embarrassed, Dean, there is no one here but us.”

 

*

 

There’s no reason for them to stop, really, but Dean finds he’s not in that much of a hurry to get to Valencia as long as they’re at least headed in that direction. Besides, if they wait a while, they can show up during the weekend when Sam and Jess might actually be home. They stop at a motel just outside of Barstow, and Castiel makes Dean sit in a chair and watch as he sprawls out naked on the bed and opens himself up with clever fingers and his handy jar of coconut oil.

“Cas,” Dean groans, twenty minutes into the ordeal. He’s been shedding articles of clothing while he sits in the chair, but he still has his jeans and boxers on. “Can we… are you ready?”

“It’s early,” Castiel says, free hand stroking up and down his cock, “don’t be in such a rush.”

“I wouldn’t be in a rush if I hadn’t spent the last half hour watching you finger yourself,” Dean grumbles, reaching down to rub at the bulge in his pants.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Castiel says. “No touching that until I’m ready to use it.”

“Since when is _that_ a rule?”

“Since now.”

“You can’t just add rules!”

“Nonsense, I can do anything I want.”

Dean unbuttons his jeans. “Well, then so can I.”

“Not if you’re hoping to fuck me tonight.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re _mean_?”

Castiel smiles serenely, and Dean stares longingly at the way his toes are curled tight in the blanket. “It’s been said.”

It’s another ten goddamn minutes before Castiel pulls his fingers free. He stretches and yawns, as though he’s been taking a relaxing nap and not opening himself up so Dean can fuck him. “You did so well, Dean,” he purrs.

Dean’s jaw is so tense he almost can’t open his mouth to reply. His fingers are cramped from clutching at his jean clad thighs, and his dick _aches_. “Did I?”

“Oh yes, you took my orders very well.”

“Hey I wasn’t taking _orders,_ I was going along with your suggestions because I’m a nice guy.”

Castiel looks around the room, then back at Dean. “Who, may I ask, are you posturing for? There is no one here but you and I, Dean.”

“I-I’m not…”

“Come to the bed, Dean.”

Dean’s off the chair and crawling over the mattress before he even realizes it. He flushes, embarrassed. “Stop telling me what to do, Cas.”

“Why? You enjoy being ordered around in the bedroom, and I enjoy ordering you around.”

“No I don’t.”

Castiel looks severely unimpressed. “Again, I must ask… who are you posturing for?”

Dean sighs. “Myself?”

“Well, please stop.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I can give that a try.”

 

*

 

Soon, Castiel is riding Dean, groaning what are probably obscenities in a language Dean doesn’t know, holding Dean’s wrists down against the mattress. He’s ordered Dean not to move, and Dean is trying his damndest to obey, but it’s hard. He wants to break free of Castiel’s hold, wants to grab Castiel’s hips and fuck up into him, but he doesn’t. He lies there and takes it, legs stretched out and unmoving, eyes wide as he stares up at Castiel.

Just because he can’t move, doesn’t mean the experience isn’t amazing. Castiel is a force of nature on top of him, and even though Dean isn’t in control he’s still feeling himself slide into the warm, tight clutch of Castiel’s body over and over, he still gets to hear the moans Castiel lets loose without shame.

“Cas,” Dean mutters, because Castiel never said he couldn’t talk.

Castiel gets a little smirk. “You want to see them, don’t you.”

Dean nods. Of course he wants to see them. He _always_ wants to see them. Castiel closes his eyes, stilling his movements. It’s silent in their motel room, save for the sound of Dean’s labored breathing, and then Dean hears the shifting of Castiel’s feathers as the wings unfold from nowhere, still beautiful and astonishing.

Interestingly, Castiel has deep scars on his back that Dean can only see when his wings are out. Dean hasn’t asked about them, but he has a pretty good idea of how Castiel got them. He can’t see them from this position but he knows they’re there, the evidence of how Castiel was betrayed in the past. It makes him want to hold the not-quite-angel tight, it makes him want to lay waste to the ones that hurt him, but he knows they’re long dead.

Still, he can’t help himself. He pulls his right hand free, and Castiel lets him, watching as Dean reaches a hand out to stroke along the top of the left wing. The muscle quivers under his touch and Castiel sighs, rocking slowly in Dean’s lap.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispers. He still can’t quite believe he has a fucking _angel wing_ under his hand. Castiel is more or less an angel, flesh and blood, eons old, powerful, and currently working himself on Dean’s cock like he was made for it.

“As are you, my human.”

Dean shudders, and Castiel presses his hand back down onto the bed. “Cas,” he whines, moaning when Castiel leans forward to bring their lips together. Castiel’s movements become a bit more hurried, and Dean’s heart beats a little faster, hot sparks of adrenaline bursting to life in his chest, zinging through his nerves.

Castiel pulls back enough to whisper to Dean. “Your soul is beautiful,” he says, kissing Dean’s cheek. “Your eyes are beautiful.” Another kiss on the other cheek. “Your body brings me such great pleasure.”

“Cas,” Dean says, so quietly he’s not even sure it was audible.

“I would kill a hundred more vampires for you, Dean,” Castiel moans, leaning back until he’s sitting up straight, “a thousand.”

“Jesus, Cas.”

Castiel lets Dean’s wrists go, and Dean immediately grabs his hips. Fuck it, they can try the whole “not moving” thing again later.

“Confess,” Castiel hisses, wings arched high and almost aggressive behind him. Fuck, Dean’s going to come in about two seconds.

“Confess what?” Dean gasps, finally giving in to the urge to thrust up into Castiel.

“Anything.” Castiel thumbs one of Dean’s nipples, working himself faster.

“I think I’m falling for you,” Dean blurts out, realizing too late it’s not even a sin.

“Dean,” Castiel whines, “ _Dean._ ” His eyes and tattoos are glowing. They shouldn’t be, Dean doesn’t feel guilty for the way he’s into Castiel. “Oh, yes, _yes,_ ” Castiel moans, still writhing on Dean’s lap. His wings are flapping in what Dean thinks is excitement, and Dean is so transfixed by their movement that he almost misses Castiel throwing his head back as he comes untouched all over Dean’s stomach.

Jesus fucking Christ. There’s no point in holding on now, so Dean pushes his hips up just a few more times and comes, shuddering and groaning low.

“That wasn’t a _sin,_ ” Dean says after a minute, staring up into Castiel’s still glowing eyes.

Castiel smiles down at Dean, traces a finger down the side of his face. “Perhaps you are conflicted about our bond. Don’t worry, I’m neither hurt nor angry.”

“Yeah? Even though I broke your rule and moved?”

“Mmm, you did so well, Dean, you tried so very hard, I could nearly taste your impatience in the air and still you obeyed for as long as you could.”

“I’ll do better next time,” Dean says, blushing a little when he realizes he just admitted they’d be doing this again.

“I know you will.”

 

*

 

“Hey, Cas?” It’s the middle of the night, but Dean can’t sleep. His mind has unfortunately drifted someplace dark. Castiel doesn’t answer, just continues to sleep pressed up against Dean’s back. “Cas, are you awake?” Dean says, a little louder, like he doesn’t know Castiel is out cold.

“Mmm?” Castiel murmurs, not quite awake. His arms tighten around Dean, and Dean shivers when he feels a kiss on the back of his neck.

“You said before that you’d follow me… when I die.”

“Of course I will,” Castiel says softly, nuzzling closer. “I will follow you anywhere.”

“What if I don’t go to Heaven when I die? What if I go to Hell?”

Castiel chuckles, which isn’t quite the reaction Dean was expecting. “You’re not going to Hell, Dean,” he says affectionately.

“You can’t know that, I’ve done… I’m a killer.”

“It’s not as easy to get sent to Hell as you might think. You hunt dangerous monsters, you’re not a murderer, and your soul does not carry the taint of one that is bound for Hell.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

That’s kind of a massive relief. “Well… what if I did something that got me sent there?”

“I sincerely doubt you will, but in that case, I suppose I would still follow you.”

“To _Hell_.”

“You are mine, my father would not deny me my mate, and I would not leave your soul in Hell’s fires,” Castiel says. He sounds more awake now. His grip on Dean is tighter, possessive.

“That’s… reassuring. Thanks, Cas.”

“Try not to do anything to get sent to Hell, though.”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

 

*

 

After a handsy shower and a diner breakfast for Dean, they set out to cover the remaining ninety or so miles to Valencia. Castiel is in a white cassock today, bare feet propped up on the Impala’s dashboard. Dean must really be into the guy if he’s letting him get away with _that._

“When is your brother expecting us?”

“Expecting?”

“What time did you tell him we’d be arriving?”

“Uhh,” Dean mutters. He can feel Castiel’s eyes boring into the side of his head.

“Does your brother not know we’re coming?”

“I guess not.”

“Dean, that’s _impolite,_ ” Castiel chides.

“Dude this is just how I do it, I drop in whenever, leave whenever.”

“But this time you are bringing company. Now I’m an uninvited guest.”

“ _I’m_ inviting you.”

Castiel sighs. “This is incredibly poor etiquette, Dean. You can’t just move me into your brother’s home without warning. What if he makes us leave?”

“You’re worrying too much, Cas. I know Sam. Sam’s a big ball of welcoming love and he’ll probably want to spend hours interviewing you about angel lore and shit.” Castiel sighs again, and Dean grins over at him. “You’re getting nervous again, aren’t you?”

“I do not have much… _dating_ experience, I don’t know that I’ve ever come to ‘meet the family’ before. Of course I’m nervous.”

“Not much dating experience? But you’re _old_ ,” Dean says, “and _really_ good in bed.”

“I’ve had plenty of sex, just not… romantic entanglements. Not recently, anyway.”

“Define recent.”

“Stop trying to find out how old I am.”

“Stop being so weird about your age!”

Castiel makes an angry little hissing sound and turns to stare out the window.

Dean never thought he would find petty bickering so oddly fulfilling, but nothing about his relationship with Castiel is what he expected.

 

*

 

Valencia is nice. Too nice for Dean, really. There are well manicured lawns and cream colored multi-level homes that all look unique but incredibly similar. They all speak of money to Dean, which is something he’s spent his life not having much of. The cars sitting out in the driveways are all newer models, bright and shiny, while Dean is driving a nearly fifty year old car that he had to rebuild himself after it got nailed by a semi. Dean loves his car, of course, but he does feel out of place when it seems like more than half the people in Sam’s neighborhood drive a damn BMW.

Castiel has been tense and silent since they started driving through Valencia itself, jaw a hard line as he stares out the window. Dean thinks it’s kind of hilarious. Castiel is an _angel_ mostly, he’s old as fuck, he’s a warrior, and his father is the fucking devil, but here he is having a panic attack about meeting Dean’s family.

“I don’t get it,” Dean says, pulling onto Sam’s street. “You didn’t flip out like this when we met my dad.”

“I’m not _flipping out,_ ” Castiel hisses. “Besides, meeting your father was different. We were on a mission, then… and… Sam is very important to you. You dream about him often.”

“Sounds incest-y when you say it like that.”

Castiel shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t see your dreams, I just feel his name in the air sometimes when you sleep.”

“Well, I just want to go on record as saying the dreams aren’t incest-y.”

“Okay?”

“Anyway, he’s just a part of my subconscious, you know? I took care of him when my mom first died and Dad went off the rails.”

“Exactly. He’s an integral part of your being, this is a… ‘big deal’, as people say.”

“What, are you afraid he’s not going to like you and I’ll just tell you to hit the road?”

Castiel doesn’t respond.

Dean pulls up to Sam’s house. The driveway is empty, but with the garage closed Dean can’t tell if anyone is home or not. He parks along the sidewalk and kills the engine.

“I thought you were the rational one out of the two of us, Cas.”

Castiel eyes Dean warily from his seat but still doesn’t say anything.

“Cas.”

“Sam is very important to you. It stands to reason that his opinion would be as well.”

“It is, but I’m my own man, I make my own choices. You’re worrying for _nothing,_ Cas, Sam likes everybody. ‘Cept my dad.”

Castiel nods slowly. “I never found anyone I could or wanted to mate with while I was still in Heaven, and I certainly _did not_ expect more than the occasional sexual connection here on Earth. Now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you.”

Damn, that’s… sweet. Dean glances at the house, then back at Castiel, wondering at the likelihood of someone seeing if he fucked Castiel in the car in the middle of the day. Too risky.

“Cas, I know we’re not exactly _in love_ at the moment, I know we just met, but I think it’s safe to say this,” Dean gestures between the two of them, “is pretty permanent.”

“Perhaps, but I understand that hu—”

“If you tell me ‘humans are fickle’ one more time, you’re sleeping in the car,” Dean snaps, and Castiel’s jaw clicks shut. Dean sighs. “Look, we’ll be fine. Just don’t kill any of my family members.”

“I would _never_.”

“Then we’ve got nothing to worry about, okay? Let’s go inside, I’m hungry.” Actually Dean really, really wants sex. Something about Castiel’s complete and unwavering devotion just gets Dean kind of hard. Life is weird like that. He gets out of the car and walks around to the passenger side, pulling open the door when Castiel makes no move to exit.

“Do you think I should change? Perhaps I should put on shoes.”

“Jesus, Cas, get out of the fucking car,” Dean says, grabbing Castiel by the hand and pulling. Castiel doesn’t budge even slightly. “ _Cas._ ”

“Alright. Okay. Alright,” Castiel mutters, allowing Dean to pull him from the car. Sam’s lawn is on the pitiful side with the California drought and it being August, but when Castiel exits the car it starts to die right in front of Dean’s eyes, and he turns to Castiel sharply.

“Dude, you have _got_ to calm down.”

“I’m _trying,_ ” Castiel hisses.

“Okay. It’s okay, just… come here,” Dean says, steering Castiel onto the lawn. It was on the pale and wilted side when they arrived, but now the grass is all dead, which is fascinating but… concerning.

Castiel stares down at his feet, frowning.

“Look at me,” Dean says, putting his hands on Castiel’s cheeks. Castiel looks into Dean’s eyes, and Dean fights not to get lost in that gaze. “It’s okay, Cas.”

“I know. Logically I know that. But I got myself very worked up on the ride over, and…”

Wow, an angel with anxiety issues. Will wonders never cease. “Okay, well just let it go, man. Sam and the rest of the family will like you, and even if they don’t… you’re mine, remember?” Dean can see some of the tension drain out of Castiel, and he smiles, stepping a bit closer. “We’re uh… mates or whatever, right?”

Castiel nods. “Right.”

“Well, what kind of mate would I be if I ditched you at the first sign of trouble?”

“I don’t…”

Dean strokes the edge of Castiel’s jaw with his thumbs. “A pretty bad one. I’m not going to be a bad mate, Cas.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, sounding relieved.

“When I was ten, I broke into someone’s house so I could watch a wrestling match on TV,” Dean says, grinning wide when Castiel’s hands fly up to grip his wrists. The swirls of blue-white light that Dean has come to adore spill into Castiel’s eyes, and the not-quite-angel shudders. “Ate a bunch of their food, made a mess of their living room, and put my muddy shoes up on their coffee table.”

“ _Dean_.” Castiel moves closer to him, hiding his face in Dean’s shoulder.

“It was after my mom died, and we were kind of on the road a lot. I’d left our motel room after Sammy and my dad fell asleep, didn’t tell them where I was going. I accidentally fell asleep in the house, and in the morning, when my dad woke up and couldn’t find me, he spent hours looking for me. He said Sam cried the whole time.”

“Dean, Dean, Dean…”

“When I left that house, I swiped a jar full of change from on top of the fridge and used the money to buy Sam a stuffed dinosaur. I still have no idea why those people weren’t home, or what happened whenever they came home and found all their loose change and snacks gone.” Dean feels teeth at his neck and he flicks Castiel on the arm. “Stop that, we’re outside.”

“You started it.”

“I was just trying to make you feel better!”

“Well it _worked,_ ” Castiel mutters. Dean can feel him take several deep breaths before he stills, pulling back to look Dean in the eye. “You are a very attentive mate.”

Dean glances away, embarrassed. He grins when he looks down. “Well, would you look at that.” The lawn has recovered beautifully with Castiel’s improved mood. The grass is far greener than it was when they arrived, and there’s a single red tulip between the two of them. Maybe he should sell angel-grown flowers at farmer’s markets, it would be a more honest living than how he gets his money now, anyway.

“Come on,” Dean says, “let’s get inside.”

 

*

 

Not even the dog is home, as it turns out, but Dean of course has a key. He gives Castiel the nickel-tour. The house is mostly clean, but there is a pile of Barbie legs on the floor among the other toys, which is pretty fucking weird, but not the strangest thing the girls have done to those poor dolls. He shows Castiel to the kitchen, the bathrooms, the laundry room, lets him peek in the master bedroom and the bedroom the girls share. He shows him Sam’s office, which he says Sam will one day lose when Mary decides she wants her own room. He shows Castiel the backyard with the swingset and more dying grass, and then they carry their bags and Castiel’s pillows and blankets down to the basement where Dean lives.

It’s not much, not compared to the rest of the house with its tasteful earth-toned furniture and cream colored walls. The basement has a ton of old boxes shoved to one side; full of stuff no one’s looked through in years, but the rest of it is Dean’s “room”. His bed is a queen size box spring and mattress on the floor because when he first started staying here, Dean thought a bed frame felt too permanent. He has a dresser and a night stand, and Sam put down some area rugs because the floor is cement and gets cold as shit in the mornings. There’s no decorations, save for a single drawing of a smiling cat that Mary taped up over Dean’s bed while he was on a hunt a couple of months ago.

“I know this isn’t very… I mean your tent was big and nice and had all the lights, but… we can… decorate?” Dean says, feeling a little embarrassed now that they’re here. His room looks so… meager. “Do you have any knickknacks?”

“I have some… knickknacks, yes… but you needn’t worry that I will find your home lacking, Dean.”

“I just never really did the personal touches thing, because I kept thinking it was temporary. But I’ve been coming and going for years now. Honestly it kind of bums me out.”

Castiel smiles. “Well, then we’ll make it look more… ‘homey’.”

“Okay. Cool.”

They set their things down on the bed, and then Castiel is moving in close, backing Dean up until he bumps up against the wall.

“Something on your mind, Cas?” Dean says, smirking.

“I want to have an orgasm,” Castiel says bluntly, “and I want one now.”

“Pushy, pushy.” Dean reaches down to ruck up Castiel’s cassock, lifting until he exposes the boxers he talked Castiel into wearing. Castiel is the slightest bit slimmer than Dean, and the way Dean’s boxers hang so low on his hips has Dean staring and licking his lips. He reaches into the boxers, stroking Castiel to hardness. “Don’t know when Sam will be back, you know, you’d better come quick.”

“Then _confess,_ ” Castiel hisses, pushing up into Dean’s hand.

Dean grins. “What, you didn’t get enough earlier?” he says, pulling his hand free long enough to get his palm wet, then he gets back to work. “What if I’m all out of sins?”

“You’re not,” Castiel says drily, “and it doesn’t have to be a new sin every time. If you stole a slice of pizza from your brother and still feel bad about it, you could tell me over and over.”

“I’ve stolen lots of slices of pizza from Sam, and I’ve _never_ felt bad about it.” Dean stops long enough to get his pants open and his own cock out, holding their erections together.

“It was an _example,_ ” Castiel growls, wrapping his hand around Dean’s.

“Actually, one time when I was sixteen, I ate my brother’s cupcake. It was his birthday a couple days before, and this girl at school that he had a big crush on gave him a little box of cupcakes. I got stoned and had the munchies and ate the last one. He cried. Not like big, wailing sobs, but he definitely cried.” Castiel throws his head back, and Dean tries not to feel weird talking about making his brother cry in order to give someone an orgasm.

“Oh, that’s…”

“He caught me right as I polished it off, too. He’d saved it as some kind of reward for finishing his homework and when he came to get it, there I was, cupcake wrapper still in my hand, frosting on my face.”

“Yes, _yes,_ Dean, I’m so close, so _full_.”

Dean wishes Castiel was full of more than just his sins he’s been throwing out since they got to Sam’s house, but this will do for now. “I cheated off a guy’s math test in eighth grade, and when the teacher tried to find out why we both had the exact same answers, both me and the other kid said we didn’t cheat. So the teacher failed us both.”

Castiel shoves against Dean, coming with a low groan and whimpering as Dean continues to work the both of them until he too spills over their hands.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of a glutton?” Dean says, looking around for something to wipe his hand on, then settling on his own shirt. It’s already dirty anyway.

“I’m perfectly capable of moderation,” Castiel mutters unconvincingly.

 

*

 

Dean had plans to unpack, maybe get some food, maybe take a shower, but somehow he ends up in bed with Castiel, nestled in sheets that need to be changed and a blanket that needs to be washed.

He must have dozed off, because suddenly he’s waking up to the sound of the door at the top of the stairs opening and closing, and Castiel stiffens in his arms. He can hear Bones barking away upstairs, and Jess yelling something about getting off the couch.

“Dean?” Sam calls, already coming down the stairs. “Did you seriously plant a bunch of tulips in my lawn?”

Dean snorts, because of course there are more tulips. “Just a second, Sammy,” he says, and yet Sam keeps walking down the stairs anyway. Not waiting for permission to enter is exactly why Sam has walked in on Dean masturbating so many times.

“How did you even get the grass to— oh holy shit that’s… you’ve got a guy in your bed.”

Castiel scrambles out of the bed so fast Dean gets kicked in the leg. “Hello, Sam,” Castiel says, sounding nervous and so _very_ human, “it’s an honor to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Castiel holds his hand out, and Sam stares at it for a long moment before snapping out of whatever daze he was in and shaking his hand.

“Uh, hi… I’m sorry, but I don’t know that Dean’s mentioned you,” Sam says awkwardly, looking over to where Dean is dragging himself out of bed.

“This is Castiel,” Dean says, grabbing a shirt out of his dresser. When he looks back at Sam and Castiel, they’re still holding hands. “You can let go of him, man.”

Sam snatches his hand away like Castiel is on fire. “Sorry, I’m just… uh, it’s nice to meet you, Castiel. Dean didn’t mention he was seeing anyone.”

“It’s very recent,” Castiel says. “However, I care for him very much, and would never dishonor him.”

“That’s uh, that’s great! That’s good, I wouldn’t want anyone dishonoring Dean. Uh… how did you two meet?”

“Dean found me at the Sole Star Carnival in Colorado,” Castiel says. Wow, Dean didn’t know the carnival had a name.

“Colorad— _Colorado_? Dean? Is this the monster you were hunting?!” Sam looks back and forth between Dean and Castiel, and Dean can see his hand twitch to reach for a gun he stopped carrying years ago.

“I was never _hunting_ him, Sam, and he’s not a monster.”

Sam grimaces, looking at Castiel apologetically. “No offense, it’s just… I have kids.”

“I understand.” Castiel looks a bit sad.

Dean rolls his eyes. If he’s being honest, he wasn’t really expecting any hurdles, but maybe he should have thought this through a little more. “Dude, do you think I’d bring him here if he was _dangerous_?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says with a sigh. “But Dean, you could have told me you were bringing a… guest.”

“Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, Sammy.” If Dean’s being honest with himself, he didn’t call ahead because he was worried Sam would say no. He feels a bit guilty about that, he might have to confess that to Castiel later.

“Look,” Sam says, and oh no, he has his dad-voice on, “I’d never want you to feel like you can’t bring people here, I’ve _always_ wanted you to feel like this was your home, but… I have my family to think of,” Sam says, glancing at the drawing on the wall.

Dean’s heart sinks into his feet. “You want me to go?”

“No!” Sam says, stepping in front of the stairs as if Dean is just going to bolt in the middle of their conversation. “But I need to know what he is, so if you still haven’t told him, I can’t let you stay here.” The last part Sam says to Castiel, who nods.

“I have already explained my past to Dean, I assure you I am not a supernatural creature with a strong kill drive. I lead a fairly simple, if somewhat nomadic life, I would never harm your family. Although I had a demonic mother, I can assure you that harming innocents is anathema to me.”

“ _Demonic mother_?” Sam gasps. At first, Dean thinks Sam is frightened, but he has a glint in his eye, a very curious “tell me all your secrets” glint that used to annoy the shit out of Dean when they were teenagers. “Demons can have children?”

“Tell him about your dad,” Dean says nudging Castiel.

Castiel shoots him a dirty look. “Must I?”

“He wants to know what you are, Cas, don’t you want me to get to stay here with you?” Dean’s laying it on thick, but he really wants to see Sam’s face when Castiel tells him. Even now, Sam is looking back and forth between them, excited. If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging like crazy.

“Of course,” Castiel sighs. “My father was an angel. _Is_ an angel.”

Jackpot. Sam’s eyes light up, and his jaw drops open in some weird happy-puppy grin. “No way! Is he serious?”

Dean nods. “Not a lot of things out there with wings.”

“ _You have wings_?” Sam takes several steps toward Castiel, who looks startled, but also a little relieved.

“I do. I can show them to you…” Castiel starts unbuttoning his cassock, and Dean smacks his hands away from the buttons.

“Don’t undress in front of my little brother, for fuck’s sake.”

“Dude, I want to see.”

“ _Later,_ ” Dean says, unsure on whether or not he means it. It’s Castiel’s choice, of course, but Dean has come to equate those wings with the two of them lying in the throes of passion… the idea of Sam looking at them feels a little troubling.

“I have _so many questions_ ,” Sam says.

“Also later, man. If you’re letting us stay, maybe he should meet the others?”

“Of course! Sure!” Sam says excitedly, and Dean can tell he’s already planning on dragging Castiel into his office and having a long and invasive conversation with extensive note taking. “But, uh… the girls don’t really know about all this stuff yet, so for now we’ll just say you’re Uncle Dean’s… uh… friend?”

“Dean is my mate.”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “ _Special_ friend, then.”

 

*

 

Jess, Mary, Abby, and Bones are all out in the yard, relaxing in the soft green grass and marvelling at the tulips. Sam looks taken aback by the sight, and then he’s frantically pulling his phone out to take a photo, smiling as he gets the shot.

Jess climbs to her feet when she hears the front door close, smiling with interest at Castiel as she walks over. “Welcome home, Dean! Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Dean’s _special friend_ ,” Castiel says with far too much emphasis. Jess barks out a laugh, and Dean puts his face in his hands.

“You just have to say that when the kids are nearby,” Sam says, shaking his head.

“Well, they are _quite_ close,” Castiel says, gesturing toward the grass.

“In earshot, Cas,” Dean says.

“I’m Castiel,” Castiel says to Jess, ignoring Dean entirely. “I’m with Dean, I hope that’s okay.”

“What, Dean ran off for a week and came back with a hot priest to be his _special_ friend? Damn, will wonders never cease,” Jess says.

“Oh man, Cas is not a priest,” Dean says, snorting.

“He’s kind of dressed like one.”

“Yeah, that’s just…” Actually, Dean has no idea why Castiel loves wearing cassocks so much. “That’s just his weird sense of style. He’s kind of… not human,” Dean whispers, and Jess’ eyes widen in surprise, “but I can vouch for him, I promise he’s not a vampire or a djinn, or anything like that, okay?”

“Okay,” Jess says slowly, eyeing Castiel more critically now. “What is he?” Jess’ face turns panicked. “Is that a rude thing to ask?” She grabs Castiel’s hand. “I’m so sorry! I’ve never met any non-humans before, I hope I’m not being offensive!”

Sam and Jess both jump back when Castiel’s eyes glow, and Dean rolls his eyes. “Dude, don’t snack on my brother’s wife.”

“She took my hand and confessed remorse. I can’t actually turn it off, you realize,” Castiel snaps, looking embarrassed.

“Cas here is an uh… well an angel,” Dean says. Jess’ eyes go so wide he’s surprised they don’t fall out of her head.

“Angels are _real_?” she yells, then waves at her daughters still playing on the grass. “Don’t listen to me, girls!”

“I’m not exactly an angel,” Castiel says.

“He’s angel-esque,” Sam tries.

“Oh… okay? Sure? That’s fine, I mean that’s totally normal, _angels_ show up at my house every day, so my agnostic ass is not freaking out at all, really.”

“I will understand if this is too much for either of you, I can…” Castiel trails off, looking down the road. He looks lost. Dean reaches out and takes his hand.

“Cas,” he says gently, “you’re freaking out again, don’t kill the lawn. Remember what we talked about.”

Castiel smiles slightly. “I would hate to destroy my tulips.”

“I was going to ask about those,” Sam says. “Is that some kind of… angel thing?”

“Excess energy when I feed gets… redistributed. Angel grace is very nurturing to plant life,” Castiel says.

Sam has the studious and crazed look on his face again, oh Christ. “Wow, so these were created without seeds? That’s fascinating, is it always unintentional, or can you do it at will?”

Castiel opens his mouth to answer, but Dean stops him. “Sam, _later._ ”

“Right, right. Sorry. I’m just. He’s an _angel_. Dean says he has wings,” Sam adds to Jess.

“Wings? Can I see them?”

Castiel glances at Dean, who rolls his eyes. “We’re outside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Perhaps anoth— hello…” Castiel says, looking down. Bones seems to have joined in on the conversation, and he’s laser focused on Castiel. The dog doesn’t look upset, he’s just standing next to Sam, staring intently at Castiel. It’s the most still Dean’s ever seen that dog without him being asleep.

Castiel crouches, reaching out to pet Bones, who accepts the gesture. “He wants water,” Castiel says.

“Uh… o-okay,” Jess says, nodding. She ushers Bones inside, casting awed glances back at Castiel as she goes.

“Okay let me get the girls, and uh… remember. You’re just a regular human.” Sam walks over to the girls, and Dean lets out a little whimper when he realizes Abby is pulling one of the tulips apart.

“Are you alright?” Castiel says, standing up straight again.

“Uh, sure. Yeah. This is just sort of surreal, I guess. What about you? You okay?”

“I feel much more at ease,” Castiel says with a smile.

“Girls,” Sam says, walking back over with Mary and Abby, “this is Castiel, he’s Uncle Dean’s special friend.”

Mary lets out a little snort and nudges Abby, who’s staring wide-eyed at Castiel. “That mean’s he’s Uncle Dean’s _boyfriend_.”

Abby smiles. “Mindy from school has an uncle with a boyfriend, and they adopted a girl from _China,_ are you going to adopt a girl from China? I want to go too!” She looks to Sam, like she wants permission.

“I don’t think that Uncle Dean is ready for uh… children,” Sam says, looking so horrified Dean’s almost insulted. “Anyway, Castiel here brought the lovely tulips in the yard, say thank you!”

“Thank you, Casteel!” Abby chirps.

“You’re welcome,” Castiel says. His voice is so _gentle_.

“Are you a priest?” Mary asks, and Castiel shakes his head no. “You kinda dress like a priest though, except I don’t think priests are supposed to have boyfriends, because they might go to… _heck_ ,” Mary whispers the last word.

Dean grimaces. Who the fuck has she been talking to?

“Mary, _no,_ nobody goes to… _heck,_ for having a boyfriend, even priests,” Sam says emphatically, then he looks up at Castiel for confirmation, mouthing “right?” and sagging in relief when Castiel smiles and nods.

“Oh. Well, that’s good, because it sounds like a bad place to go. That girl Susan at school that has really long braids, she talks about it a _lot,_ ” Mary says. “She says boys that kiss other boys go there, and the girl that stole her pudding cup will go there too.”

Dean groans.

“Well, Susan’s wrong,” Sam says.

“Susan’s wrong about a _lot_ of things,” Mary says. She’s so damn snarky for a seven year old.

“Daddy,” Abby says suddenly. She’s pointing down at Castiel’s feet. “How come _he_ gets to come outside without shoes on?”

 

*

 

All in all, it goes well. It goes wonderfully, ridiculously well. They order takeout after the girls go to bed, and Sam and Jess get to know Castiel. They do a pretty okay job of not prying for angelic information, though Dean can tell it’s still on Sam’s mind. Dean feels bad for Castiel. At some point Sam will probably catch him alone, and grill him for hours armed with a legal pad and a voice recorder.

Dean actually learns quite a bit about Castiel during the conversation. He learns that Castiel speaks dozens of languages, sewed all of his cassocks himself, and finds the rectangular pupils of goats to be unnerving. He learns Castiel’s favorite book is an unnamed Greek novel so old he had to imbue it with his grace centuries ago to stop it from falling apart, and before the advent of guns he used to fight in wars he had no real stake in just to remember the thrill of battle. He’s had beloved friends come and go, but he never considered returning to Heaven for any of them, until Dean.

“Aww, that’s so romantic.”

Dean glares at Jess, then Castiel. “He talks about my death a _lot._ It’s fucking morbid.”

“Death is not the end,” Castiel says serenely.

“Well, it still wigs me out.”

Castiel scoots closer to Dean on the couch, leaning over to kiss his temple. “I will try harder to be sensitive to your feelings on the matter.”

“That’s all I ask. But uh… I look forward to meeting all your dead friends, I guess.”

“Oh my god, Sam, they’re so cute!” Jess squeals.

 

*

 

“So… what’s the verdict?”

They’re in Dean’s room now, and Castiel is casting off Dean’s blankets, sheets, and pillows to replace with his own.

“Verdict?” Castiel says, shaking out one of his blankets.

“On the family. How do you feel?”

“Oh.” Castiel lays the blanket down, and turns to where Dean is watching from the stairs. “I like them very much. It’s been so long since I was with such a… wholesome family unit.”

“Wholesome? We’re not _wholesome_.”

“I assure you, I meant that as a compliment,” Castiel says, returning to setting the bed.

“So, you’re cool to stay for a while?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know.” Dean starts untying his boots. “You were so worried about not being welcome, it didn’t seem like you considered the possibility of _you_ not being happy here.”

“In my time on Earth, I’ve discovered that I am very good at adapting,” Castiel says. “So long as the environment is not outright hostile, I’m fine making a home just about anywhere. And this is not just anywhere.”

“Yeah?”

“This is my mate’s home, I’m sure we can turn this basement into a fine nest.”

“It’s a _room,_ not a nest. We’re not birds.”

“I think you worry far too much about my vocabulary. I like nest. It is more than a home, it is shelter, it is our bubble of comfort within your home.”

“Yeah, well our bubble is made of concrete and barely any natural light,” Dean says, pointing up at the hopper windows. It’s dark out, so Dean can’t see a damn thing when he looks through them.

“Don’t worry, you’ll understand what I mean eventually.”

“No, no, I get it, I do. It’s like your tent at the carnival, right? Your little bubble of _you,_ except in this case it’ll be a bubble of us.”

Castiel hums with so much pleasure Dean can almost feel it from across the room. “ _Yes,_ ” he says, sounding full of joy. Dean finds himself on his bare feet and crossing the room to Castiel without really meaning to.

“This is important to you, huh?” he says, looking down at the layers of blankets now on his bed. He hopes Castiel doesn’t intend to sleep under all of them. The basement gets cool, but this is still California in _August_.

“It is an… ‘angel thing’, you might say. This safe nest to return to after battle.”

“ _Battle_. Not sure how hard my hunts will be with you along.”

“If you want, I can wait in the car while you risk your life, as you wanted with the vampires.”

“Hey, it’s cool. Faster hunts means we’ll get to do more,” Dean says. He wraps his arms around Castiel from behind, breathing in the ever present scent of coconut oil. “We can sightsee. Get jobs. I can teach you to play pool and we can hustle in bars for cash.”

Castiel chuckles, and it rumbles through Dean’s body like thunder. “I’m quite an adept pool player, actually.”

“Yeah?” They’re standing there in the unimpressive basement room, Castiel held tight against Dean’s body, and somehow it’s everything. “I bet I could kick your ancient _ass_ at pool.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

“Really? When? Now? I’ll take you to a bar right now and beat you so bad you’ll be crying in the bathroom over my awesome pool skills.”

“I accept your challenge, Dean.”

Dean grins, and walks over to put his shoes back on. “You’re on.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! I have two (unrelated) Destiel Reverse Bang fics posting this month, so... you know. Get excited.
> 
> I expect to revisit this verse again before long, Dani had some interesting ideas about Dean and Cas selling vegetables together...


End file.
